Obstetrics and Gynecology
by AnthroQueen
Summary: 40 weeks is all it takes to change their lives forever.
1. First Trimester

Obstetrics and Gynecology

**Week One**

_While this is technically considered the first week of your pregnancy, baby is still only a glimmer in your eye (and an egg in your ovary). The first day of your period is considered Day 1 of the 280 days of your pregnancy even though conception won't occur for another 14 days or so (we know, it's totally confusing)_.

This has become almost like a game, but then again, _everything_ they do is, as Annie put it, "some sick competition."

They aren't exclusive; hell, Jeff has probably slept with a dozen girls since they'd started this "no strings attached" sex pact and Britta has had her fair share of dates as well. But there is something about this particular situation; there is a certain thrill to the sneaking, a certain rush when they come together, _no pun intended_, knowing that this is their little secret, that no one else knows about them.

Abed probably knows. But Abed knows _everything_.

**Week Two**

_At the end of this week, the utterly mind-blowing miracle—conception—will occur! Once the egg's been fertilized, it will split into two nuclei that contain the genes of you and your partner (like Dad's gorgeous eyes and Mom's great legs). Although you won't know it for months yet, the gender of your baby and his or her eye and hair color, and even to some extent his or her personality, has all already been determined. Your little blastocyst (aka, teensy, weensy baby-to-be) will begin the long 7-to-10-day trek down the fallopian tubes to the uterus. Congratulations, Mama, you're pregnant ... you just don't know it yet!_

They couldn't recall when this had first happened, but they weren't expecting the outcome or the effect it had on them.

Jeff and Britta _have_ been secretly hooking up, it is true, for about three or four months before they had done _it._ Before their child, whom they didn't know existed, had been created. All it had taken was one drunken make-out session, one sloppy round of sex in the grungy unisex bathroom at The Red Door/L-Street- whichever. Later they realized they hadn't bothered to use a condom, but whatever. It was just _once_.

But once is all it takes.

**Week Three**

_Just because you don't know if you're knocked up yet doesn't mean there isn't plenty going on inside of you. This week starts with what is probably one of the most momentous events in your pregnancy (besides the meeting of egg and sperm and when you actually have the baby): implantation. By the end of this week, your little sugar pie will be made of 500 microscopic cells._

"Holy shit," Britta groans as Pierce stumbles through their assigned Anthropology reading one afternoon. "_When_ are you going to learn to read?"

"In his defense, they didn't have printed word back then," Jeff jokes, trying to ease the tension caused by her outburst. "It's hard reading things penned by quill."

"Ooh! Shakespearean Era burn!" Troy shouts, laughing.

"You've been a moody bitch lately," Pierce frowns. "What's the matter? Aunt Flo in town?"

Britta glares at him. "Shut the _hell_ up."

Later, she cries when she receives a C on her Women Studies paper.

She didn't know she cared that much.

**Week Four**

_Your microscopic embryo is already hard at work this week creating the placenta, umbilical cord and the basics of his or her body. Believe it or not, your baby is already starting to look like a tiny little being (not necessarily a ____human__ being) complete with a head, a mouth opening and a primitive brain and heart. By the end of this week, your baby measures about 1/25 of an inch long, about the size of a period (like the one at the end of this sentence, not the one you just missed)._

She misses a period.

At first, she panics. Of course pregnancy is the first thing on her mind, because this isn't _normal_. She _has_ been moody lately and she was blaming it on her upcoming period. But it never comes. Days pass and Britta waits. She can't blame it on stress; there _is_ no stress at Greendale. She can't blame it on malnutrition, because she's been eating nonstop lately. Yeah, her cycle has always been irregular, so maybe that's it? Maybe it'll come next week, she tells herself, and allows herself to forget.

She doesn't. And her period never comes.

**Week Five**

_Your baby's microscopic heart begins to beat this week—although it won't be detectable with one of those cool Dopplers for a few weeks, so you'll have to wait a little longer to hear that satisfying "whoosh-whoosh" you're so anxious for. Your baby's first organ system will be up and running! The beginnings of the brain; the cardiovascular, nervous and reproductive systems; as well as all other major systems are under way. Your baby's new digs—the amniotic sac and the placenta (aka the hotel and the restaurant)—are still forming at this point. (Maybe you should send a housewarming gift.) All that high-speed development and your baby is only 2 millimeters long—about the size of a sesame seed (check one out next time you're eating a bagel—you won't believe how tiny it is!)._

She and Jeff are arguing as usual and have been for over an hour. Britta doesn't even know what they're arguing about anymore- she's completely lost context of the conversation- because all of a sudden, an intense wave of nausea washes over her and she has to lean against her bathroom door for support. Jeff smirks, as he _would_, and asks, "What? Am I making you physically ill?"

Her body answers for her. She barely has time to turn around and enter the bathroom before she's vomiting. She's barely aware of Jeff holding back her hair, grimacing vilely, before she's retching again. "Whoa. What did you eat and how can I stay away from it?"

She frowns, flushing the toilet and leaning back against the cool wall. "Maybe it's the flu. In which case, you're already screwed."

Jeff shakes his head. "Go sleep. I'll tell the study group you're not coming to class today."

She has half a mind to tell him not to tell her what to do, but she feels too shitty to do anything but take his advice.

**Week Six**

_This week starts a period of rapid cellular development for your baby-to-be, who looks like a mini tadpole, with a tiny head and tail. His or her eyes, ears and mouth have begun to form (though they're a little more Discovery Channel "creatures of the sea" documentary than Gerber Baby at this point). Your baby's heart is now beating to a regular beat, although it's still too faint to hear. His or her arm buds are ____just__ beginning to, well, bud. They look like teensy swollen bumps at this point. In a few days, they'll resemble itsy-bitsy flippers. Your baby has grown to ⅛ inch long—about the size of one of the chocolate sprinkles on your last cupcake._

She should have known better than to take a pregnancy test while at _Greendale_.

There she is, sitting on the toilet and waiting the full two minutes to see the results, when she realizes she left the box and the wrapper on the floor of the stall, and someone has just entered the bathroom. After a few moments of scrambling to pick everything up, Britta realizes it's Shirley, and this situation cannot end in a good way.

"Brit-ta," Shirley begins softly, adorably pronouncing both Ts. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"No thanks," Britta hopes she'll just leave, but as expected, she doesn't. "I-I'm fine."

"I'm sure you are," Shirley pauses. "But you certainly don't want to celebrate this wonderful news alone, do you?"

Slowly, Britta unlocks the stall and goes to stand next to Shirley by the sinks. "I don't know if it's such wonderful news."

"Britta, either way it's wonderful," Shirley grins. "If the test is positive, you have a beautiful baby on the way and if it's not, then you get a second chance at becoming a good person!"

She ignores the half-insult. "It's positive."

Shirley claps excitedly. "Oh, that's nice! Our babies will grow up together, Britta! They'll be best friends! We can join a pregnancy yoga class and a single mother support group and an inter-mother babysitting service…"

_Oh great_, Britta thinks. _This is even worse than I thought._

**Week Seven**

_This week your baby's brain is growing at a mind-boggling 100 cells per minute within a see-through skull. If you could peer inside, you'd see those tiny brain cells growing and growing and growing. Your baby's face is becoming more defined this week. A tiny mouth hole (which will be ready to wail before you know it!), tongue, nostrils and ear indentations are visible. His or her eyes are wide open, but he doesn't have irises (the colored part) yet. Baby's arm buds are growing. At this point they look more like microscopic ping-pong paddles than arms. Baby's leg buds are also forming and will look like tiny paddles by the end of the week. The umbilical cord—the connection between your baby and the placenta—is now visible. Your baby is now between 1/3 and 1/4 inch long—about the length of a Tic Tac and about as heavy as an eyelash. While that sounds tiny, he or she is approximately 10,000 times bigger than at conception. Crazy, huh?_

The smell of Annie's macaroni and cheese is making Britta nauseous.

Shirley slides her a small sleeve of lemon drops, winking conspiratorially as Britta thanks her graciously, knowing this is the only thing that has calmed her torturous stomach. Annie cocks her head to the side, shooting her a glance. "You aren't going to eat lunch?"

"I just… don't feel very well," Britta finishes lamely.

Annie looks concerned. "You should go to the doctor. There's no way the flu lasts for two weeks…"

The nineteen-year-old isn't unintelligent. Her eyes widen and she gasps, all Annie-like. "You're feeling nauseous, you're vomiting, you're falling asleep in class… Britta, are you _pregnant?_"

Rolling her eyes, the blonde nods. "Yes Annie. You caught me."

"Oh my God," Annie sits back against the chair. "Okay… This is sort of a lot to handle right now. So we don't who the father of Shirley's baby is-"

"Watch it, girl," Shirley warns.

"But who's the father of _yours?_" Annie asks, but Britta's keeping mum.

"You know what, we're going to keep this under wraps for now, since you two know and he doesn't yet," Britta says. "Just don't say anything. To anyone. Ever."

"Okay, relax Britta. Jeez," Annie states. "I'm _great_ at keeping secrets."

Five minutes later, she squeals, "Ooh! I can throw a baby shower for _both_ of you, now!"

Shirley claps giddily. Britta sighs. This might not end well…

**Week Eight**

_This week, your little tadpole is starting to look a little bit more human. Your baby's eyelids, ears, upper lip and the tip of his soon-to-be adorable button nose are forming. He or she will also sprout webbed fingers and toes this week. Baby's tiny heart has separated into four distinct chambers and is really ticking now—at a rate of 150 beats per minute. That's more than twice your resting heart rate (even when Brad Pitt is on the screen). Your baby is now a little more than ½ inch long, about the size of the rock in Nicole Richie's engagement ring, and is about as heavy as the check Joel Madden wrote to pay for it._

Jeff and Pierce have yet to show up for study group, Shirley and Annie are whispering about something she doesn't care about, and Troy and Abed are making last minute revisions on their screenplay. But none of that is of any importance to Britta, because it's three o'clock in the afternoon and she's going to throw up. _Again_. Wasn't this supposed to be called _morning_ sickness?

Halfway back from the bathroom, she decides she wants a cheeseburger.

Abed glances at her curiously. Britta frowns. "Don't judge me."

"Hmm," He comments. "You seem to be craving a lot of things you would never normally eat, lately. Meat, especially."

Britta's eyes widen. "W-What are you saying? Are you insinuating I'm pregnant? Because… because that's crazy!"

"I'm not saying you're pregnant, Britta. I would've thought you just decided that the vegetarian lifestyle was too limiting, therefore you've reverted back to you past ways of eating," Abed explains and then adds, "But _now_ I think you're pregnant."

Britta scowls. "Damn it."

"It's okay," Abed pats her knee. "We all know that you and Jeff have been sleeping together since paintball."

The room falls silent. Shirley lets out a shocked prayer, Troy shouts, "WHAT?" Annie just screams. It's Abed's turn to frown. "Everyone looks so shocked. Did I misread something?"

"Okay," Britta says awkwardly. "So now you know it's Jeff's…"

**Week Nine**

_Big news! You may be able to hear the heartbeat this week with the help of a Doppler, an ultrasound device that captures the chug-a-chug sound of baby's heart. Baby is growing nipples and hair follicles. His pancreas, gallbladder, bile ducts and anus are all in place, ready to poop and pee a dozen times a day when he's born. Your baby's head is half the size of his body and his little chin is tucked into his chest. His tiny tail is beginning to shrink away, giving Junior a more human and less amphibious look. Until now, all pre-babies look the same "down there." This week, however, your baby will begin to develop either male or female genitalia. While you won't be able to find out the gender of your baby for several more weeks, the version you'll give birth to is being developed right now. At this stage, your developing fetus is 1-inch in length, about the size of a martini olive (you remember martinis, don't you?) and weighs a mere 2 grams—a little less than a penny._

Her plan had been to tell Jeff first and then let the study group know, gently.

But as usual, nothing had gone according to plan.

Annie approaches her one day and takes a deep breath, saying, "I'm going to try and be as mature about this as possible. I can't say I don't have feelings for Jeff anymore, because that would be a lie. But I know he doesn't really want anything serious with me and even if he doesn't know it yet, he's obviously going to have something very serious with you."

Britta smiles as Annie continues. "Plus my parents would be really angry with me over this if they found out. My Mom would freak out and my Dad would probably kill Jeff… And I don't want your baby to grow up without a father… But anyway. I'm saying this because you're one of my best friends and I want us to still be able to _be_ best friends without Jeff coming in between us."

She has the urge to laugh and she doesn't know why. Ugh, these _stupid_ pregnancy hormones. But she doesn't. Britta hugs Annie instead. "Thanks Annie. I know that must've been hard for you to say."

Annie grins. "Plus, we can go shopping to all of those cute baby stores and in the maternity section, now!"

"You're getting ahead of yourself," Britta says because she honestly hasn't even thought of that yet.

"Oh come on, we already go shopping anyway!" Annie insists. "I know you're probably really overwhelmed right now. But I'm here to help!"

Britta bites her lip. "Can you help me figure out a way to tell Jeff?"

For the first time in all her years of planning and scheming, Annie Edison is stumped.

**Week Ten**

_By the end of Week 10, your baby graduates from embryo to fetus. Your baby has finally morphed from a little tadpole into, well, a baby. Not only is the face more human-like, but that unflattering "tail" (really just the developing spinal cord) has disappeared, fusing into the spinal column. Your baby now has discernible fingers and toes, which will explain the steady stream of kicks and punches you'll feel down the line. The ears are beginning to take shape and the eyelids are no longer transparent. Baby's brain will make an incredible 25,000 new neurons every minute this week. And whether your baby is a boy or a girl, the kidneys are creating copious amounts of urine. Lucky for you, you won't have to change a diaper for another 30 weeks. Baby weighs only 4 grams and measures 1½ inches, about the size of a large Brazil nut._

Britta's not the best at breaking news to people, good or bad.

Despite the fact that she had kept her pregnancy a secret from him for about a month, she and Jeff continued to meet each other for sexual escapades, Britta declining only when he suggested they meet at a bar a couple times. They would meet, argue, make-out, and have sex routinely, these few times using a condom even though Britta knew guiltily that it didn't matter either way. This morning, she woke up to the warm sun on her bare skin, Jeff's arm tightly wrapped around her torso. Her nausea was slowly decreasing lately, but wasn't completely gone. Instead, the further and further along in her pregnancy, the guiltier she became. Shifting slightly, she slides out of his grasp, searching for her clothes as he eyes her sleepily.

"Where's the fire?" He yawns. "You're not even going to have breakfast with me?"

She stops midway through clasping her bra-which, by the way, is _not_ fitting like it used to. Turning around slowly, she says, "So… Remember you freaked out you were when I told you I loved you last year?"

Jeff groans, remembering that tonight was in fact Greendale's end-of-the-year dance. "Yeah. You're not going to do that again tonight, are you? Because if so, I need some time to adequately prepare myself."

"I'm giving you five seconds, then I'm dropping bomb number two," Britta says and Jeff looks at her oddly. "I'm pregnant."

Jeff blinks at her, his expression matching the same one he gave her a year ago. "Oh. Well, damn."

"Yep," Britta sighs, leaning back against the headboard. "My reaction exactly."

**Week Eleven**

_All of your baby's vital organs are now formed and functioning, so the risk of defects decreases this week as your baby becomes less susceptible to outside influences. Baby's ears are assuming their proper place this week and the fingernail and toenail beds are beginning to form. While testes or ovaries are completely formed now, don't start decorating the nursery. You won't be able to see your baby's gender for a few more weeks yet. In the next nine weeks, your baby will increase 30 times in weight and almost triple in length. Your baby now weighs a third of an ounce, about the same as two small, Starbucks-sized packets of sugar, is about 2 inches long, the length of one of those sugar packets. Isn't that sweet?_

They somehow cope with the fact that they're going to become parents.

"We can do this," Jeff assures them- or, more himself. Britta chuckles in amusement from the passenger seat of his Lexus. "I mean, we can do this, right? Yeah. Yeah. We can _totally_ do this!"

Britta asks, "Do you want to do this? Because you don't have to. You can totally walk away right now. I'm giving you the opportunity."

"I'm not going anywhere," He assures her, but somehow his voice betrays himself. It comes out shaky and unnaturally high. "Really. I can handle this. _We_ can handle this."

She shakes her head as they pull into the clinic. Somehow, she has convinced him to come with her to her doctor's appointment; her OB/GYN has been bothering her for weeks now about meeting the child's father. They go through all of necessary paperwork, check her vitals, and talk about her early pregnancy symptoms before Dr. Hastings tells her to lie back so she can perform the ultrasound. Jeff is standing awkwardly to the side; Britta warns him to stay near her head and he doesn't know why- it's nothing he hasn't seen before.

But the awkwardness and anxiety fade away when the doctor brings the screen into focus. A tiny body rests in a mass of darkness, the small chest rising up and down slowly, the heartbeat minute but strong. The little arms and legs move in a jerking fashion, not fluidly, but adorably all the same. Apparently this was the first time any of them had seen the baby; at the last ultrasound, Baby Perry had been just a mass of cells with a rapidly beating heart.

"I'll give you two a moment," Dr. Hastings says quietly, exiting the room.

Britta's sobbing, but lately, she's always either really emotional or super pissed, so Jeff has kind of adapted to this behavior. He wraps an arm around her shoulder and brings her body into his, not taking his eyes off the screen, mesmerized by the sight of his child. _His child_… those words are going to take some getting used to.

But it's in that moment that Jeff decides he's in this for life.

**Week Twelve**

_Baby's face is looking more human as his eyes have moved to the front of his head and his ears are in place. Your baby is able to swallow this week and practices on the amniotic fluid he or she floats in. Fetuses get oxygen from the blood pumped into their bodies by the placenta and don't breathe with their lungs. Don't forget to put a baby nail file on your registry—your little nugget's finger- and toenails are forming this week. The chin and nose are also becoming more defined. Junior has doubled in size over the past two weeks and now weighs almost ½ ounce. He's also now around 2 ½ inches long, about the length of your pinky finger or a Vienna sausage, which, in a few months, will be indistinguishable from one another._

The week after school lets out for the summer, Annie calls everyone and organizes a trip to a local Italian restaurant near the mall.

"So is it just me or has everyone noticed that Britta looks… well, a little more… _plump_?" Pierce asks the moment there is a lull in conversation.

"She's _pregnant_, Pierce," Shirley scolds, gripping her own swollen belly and shaking her head distastefully. "Seriously!"

"Pregnant?" Pierce wonders. "They figured out a way for lesbians to get each other pregnant?"

"Would you stop calling me a lesbian?" Britta insists. "Where the hell would you get that from, anyway?"

"Listen Tiny, I know I was pretty high on Valentine's Day, but it was _definitely_ you making out with the lesbian on the dance floor!" Pierce shoots back and Jeff turns to her, amused.

"You _made out_ with her?" He questions, a grin on his face. "I cannot _wait_ to tell the kid that Mommy made out with a girl."

Britta glares murderously at him. "Do and die."

**Week Thirteen**

_Your baby can make a fist and even suck his or her thumb this week—both skills that are super cute during infancy. Your baby's eyelids are fused shut to protect his eyes as they develop. His bones and skull are solidifying and soon itsy-bitsy ribs may appear. Baby's intestines are finally right where you want them—in his or her belly instead of poking out into the umbilical cord. Baby's tooth sockets are all loaded and ready to pop out baby teeth six or seven months after baby is born. Her vocal cords and larynx are completed now. Your baby-to-be now weighs about 20 grams and is nearly 3 inches long, or about the size of a Nutter Butter, covered in chocolate. OK, it doesn't have to be covered in chocolate, but isn't everything better that way?_

The first week of June, Britta goes maternity clothes shopping with Annie and Shirley, mostly because she's beginning to show and even her baggiest clothes don't seem to cover her ever-growing stomach. She shuffles from store to store, picking at clothing but not really buying anything, and feeling like a whale already.

"Oh pumpkin," Shirley sympathizes. "You think you feel like a house now… Wait until you're around where I am. It doesn't get better from here. Only worse."

"Shirley! That's awful," Annie cries. "I think you look great, Britta. You really don't look that different yet."

"Give it a couple weeks," Britta says wryly. "So what do I do when I can't fit into regular clothes but I don't fit into maternity clothes either?"

"Ah, the awkward stage," Shirley chuckles as they enter the next store. "There isn't much you can do, sweetie, unless you know how to sew. Get creative!"

"Are you getting excited yet?" Annie asks, picking out things for Britta to try on, even if they aren't her style. There really _is_ no style with maternity wear.

"Well, more nervous than excited," Britta states warily and then changes the subject before either of them can comment or inquire on her unsure feelings. "Speaking of excited, are Elijah and Jordan excited about their future sibling?"

"Yes! They're very excited to be big brothers," Shirley squeals and then adds, quietly, "Regardless of whether this baby is wholly theirs or… only half."

Annie and Britta share a glance. "Are you going to get a paternity test?"

"Of course!" Shirley exclaims. "You think I want my child going through life not knowing who his or her father is?"

"No, no of course not," Annie states gingerly. "But in a way… Don't you already kind of _know_?"

Shirley shakes her head, tight-lipped. "No. I do not. I don't care what Troy says. That voicemail doesn't prove anything."

"No," Britta sighs. "I guess not."


	2. Second Trimester

Obstetrics and Gynecology

**Week Fourteen**

_Welcome to the second trimester! Think of it this way: You're a third of the way through and baby's a third of the way cooked. Now that the "big stuff" (like skeletal and organ development) is taken care of, your baby starts a period of rapid brain growth, fat buildup and detail work. Your baby now has fingerprints! Baby's arms are now in proportion to his tiny body, but his legs are still on the short size in comparison. Your baby continues to gain new and impressive skills such as practicing and controlling voluntary muscle movements. Your tiny dancer's movements are no longer the jerky, uncontrollable twitches of yore—he now moves with graceful control. Your baby is now weighs about an ounce and is the length of a flip phone, or roughly 3.5 inches—he's tripled in size from a mere three weeks ago! Luckily, you haven't done the same._

When Britta receives her invitation to her family's annual reunion that summer, she realizes that no one even knows she's pregnant.

"Just don't go," Jeff tells her as they are eating dinner at the local Chinese restaurant that night.

Britta shakes her head. "The only reason you 'don't go' to one of these _God-awful_ reunions is if you're dead. Which, I would be, if I didn't show up. I don't have a choice."

Jeff twirls some lo mein noodles around his fork. He'd given up on the chopsticks a while back. "So go, explain the situation, and move on. I don't see the big deal."

"Because my family _knows_ me. This isn't something that I do!" Britta wails. "They think I'm this innocent woman, not the kind of girl who goes and sleeps around and has an accidental pregnancy with some random guy!"

"Hey, first off, that 'random guy' has been holding your hair back while you vomit and bringing you peanut butter, mayonnaise, and pickle sandwiches for weeks now," Jeff begins, putting a smile and a blush on the latter's face. "Second, that's my kid you're talking about. Don't call her an 'accident.' You'll give him a complex."

"How did our child's gender just switch midway through that sentence?"

"Because we don't know _his_ gender yet and I don't want to keep calling _her_ It." Jeff answers. "Anyway, just tell them in advance you have a surprise for them. I mean, you can't say no, right?"

"No. I already told my mother I'd be there." Britta bites her lip before she adds, "And so will you."

Jeff chokes on his dinner, the soy sauce burning the back of his throat. "_What?_"

"Okay listen," Britta points her fork at him accusatorily. "If I'm going down, you bet your ass you're riding shotgun."

**Week Fifteen**

_Although many women don't start feeling the baby move until the 17th week (or later), your baby has been having his own party in the amniotic sac he calls home. Baby's head is now resting on his well-formed neck instead of directly on his shoulders like Igor. He's beginning to grow eyebrows and eyelashes this week. Although baby's eyes are sealed shut, he's now able to sense light. His eyes and ears finally look like real baby features now. As your baby practices sucking and swallowing actions, he may actually hiccup. Over the next month, baby will grow faster than ever, so make sure you load up on enough nutritious food and fluids to support his growth. Your baby now measures nearly 4 inches, about the size of a Kit Kat "finger" (regular-size, not the Big one you get at the movies), and weighs almost 2 ounces._

The third week of June, Annie hosts a baby shower for Shirley and Britta in her apartment. It's in a really awkward stage for both of them- Britta's barely in her second trimester, while Shirley only has five weeks to go until her baby makes his or her first appearance. But nonetheless, they socialize and play organized party games that Annie finds clever and witty. The biggest hit is the final game; there are about six or seven diapers set up, each with a different melted chocolate candy bar inside. The goal was to guess the candy bar.

Troy had won easily.

"Annie," He asks her at the end of the party. "Can I eat the candy now?"

She gives him a disgusted look. "Ew. Sure. But that's _disgusting_."

He shrugs. "It's just chocolate."

Britta's pleased to announce she acquired some pretty important things at the party, such as a diaper genie, a bassinette, a breast pump, some blankets and towels, a few sets of clothing. Jeff strolls over casually and lifts up the breast pump, the look on his face ghastly.

"Okay look, I know this kid is going to have some issues with drinking anyway, but a _beer bong?_" He questions. "Who got us a beer bong?"

"It's a breast pump," Britta rolls her eyes. "But Pierce thought it was a beer bong too. This is from him."

Jeff nods, his face still unreadable. "That makes _so_ much sense."

**Week Sixteen**

_Your baby is already mugging for the camera as she practices all sorts of facial expressions, such as squinting, yawning and grimacing, which will come in handy when you introduce her to pureed spinach. If your baby is a girl, her uterus is fully developed and the ovaries already hold primitive egg cells. Your baby's skin is still translucent and wrinkly, not unlike an old man's, but more fat will soon accumulate under the dermas to plump her out. If you could peer inside right now, you'd be able to see all of her veins under her skin. And speaking of veins, your baby's heart now pumps about 25 quarts of blood per day, and she hasn't even seen Orlando Bloom yet! Also, her eyes are now locked and loaded at their final destination, facing forward rather than to the sides. Your baby weighs about 3 ounces this week and measures between 4 and 5 inches, about the length of your mascara._

The last week of June marks the first week of Britta's fourth month of pregnancy, and Shirley decides this is the perfect time for her to join her pregnancy yoga class. Britta honestly has never been into the whole relaxation-yoga-breathe deeply scene, but she decides to give it a go.

She wakes up in Jeff's apartment that morning, disoriented and unsure of her surroundings. Shirley sends her a text that morning with the address of the studio and a little smiley face, so Britta knows she's excited. When she arrives, hew newly purchased yoga mat beneath her arm, Shirley gives her a hug- or, as much of a hug as she can give her, with their pregnant bellies in the way.

"You're going to love this, Britta," She grins. "It's so relaxing. Really gets your head in the right place!"

She wonders if this is a jab at her being pregnant and unmarried, but she ignores it and tries Shirley's form of exercise anyway.

It doesn't kill her, so she keeps going.

**Week Seventeen**

_Your baby's adding fat stores that will keep him warm and cozy after he's born. His or her weight will increase approximately six times over the next four weeks. Good to know you're not the only one tipping the scale. Your baby is hard at work honing his sucking and swallowing reflexes—all the better for eating that 2 AM (and 5 AM, and 8 AM ...) meal in a few months! The finger- and toenails are beginning to grow from their nail beds, which would explain why he'll need them trimmed almost as soon as he's born! Your baby weighs nearly 5 ounces and is a little over 5 inches long—about the size of a baked potato (load on the butter and sour cream, please)._

The Perry family reunion is held the first week of July, with Britta nervously trying to remember which relatives to avoid.

"Okay, so here's the deal," She starts as they park outside her family home in Denver. "We can't tell my family that we're not really together but are having a baby anyway, because, like Shirley, the Perrys frown upon pregnancy before marriage. Not really because of religious reasons, but more because it looks bad. But we can't tell them we're married either, because then they'll all wonder why they weren't invited to the wedding."

Jeff's eyes are wide as he stares at her house. "Okay, sure."

"So, maybe… I don't know. Should we be engaged? Is that the story?" Britta wonders aloud. "Will that work?"

"Probably, sure, fine," He waves this off and points at her massive childhood home. "Why didn't you tell me your family was the Colorado Kennedys?"

Britta shrugs. "It's not important."

"_You're rich!_"

"I'm not rich. My parents are rich," Britta insists. "Come on."

They manage to make it through the afternoon with relative ease, and it comes as a surprise to both Jeff and Britta that they seem to be very good at being "couply." They hold hands, wrap arms around each other's waists, and every now and then, share the odd kiss. Their charade is going well, until Britta's oldest brother's wife asks menacingly, "So if you're engaged, where's your ring?"

Bitch. She hated Richard growing up, but she hates him even more now that he married a girl with the same bitchy personality as he has. "It's… We're um…"

"Bridgette, I think Marcus is choking on his hot dog," Harrison, Britta's other- and favorite- brother cut in. "Might want to take care of your own kids before treating Britta like one."

Britta smiles and Jeff smirks, impressed. At least their child would have one decent uncle.

**Week Eighteen**

_Your baby's ears are now facing forward and are completely formed so she can actually hear you talking now. You don't need to abandon your potty mouth just yet, but you might want to start thinking about it! This week is also the beginning of ossification. And while that sounds like some long and involved paperwork you'll have to fill out, it's really a fancy medical term for the hardening of your baby's miniature bones. And that's a good thing. Your baby's nerves are making more and more complex connections. Her sense of smell, taste, sight and hearing are all developing. A substance called myelin, which makes nerve connections travel faster, is now coating your baby's nerves. Your baby now weighs between 5 and 7 ounces and is about 5½ inches long—about the size of a pickle from the corner deli._

They are making out on Britta's bed when Jeff feels it, jumping back and nearly three feet in the air.

"Holy fuck," He shouts. "The baby just kicked me."

"What?" She exclaims, sitting up and pulling up her shirt, as if that helps any. "I want to feel it!"

"Oh my God, the baby isn't even born yet and it already hates me," Jeff groans. "Great. I hated my father and now my kid is going to do the same."

Britta glances at him, not sure what to say. "He/she won't hate you."

"Yeah, right! You can't assure that. This kid's half-me and half-you; it's already going to have some serious anger issues."

"Yeah, but-" She stops mid-sentence, her eyes widening. "Oh my God I feel it. Jeff! Oh my God!"

Jeff's worries fade away when he watches her, all excited and teary-eyed. She grabs his hand and places it under hers, right where their little soccer player is kicking away. "Oh my God… Do you feel it?"

Jeff nods. "Yeah… I feel it."

**Week Nineteen**

_This week your baby starts bulking up and packing on the grossly named "brown fat" he'll need to keep warm when he gets evicted from his comfortable uterine home. Vernix, a milky white coating that protects your baby's skin, appears all over your baby's body to keep his skin from getting pickled in the amniotic fluid. Under the vernix, a fuzzy layer of hair called lanugo now covers baby's body. Most of the fuzz will fall off before baby makes his grand entrance. Good news: Your baby's kidneys are fully functioning and producing urine this week. Bad news: That means there will be lots of diapers in your future. He or she now weighs about 8½ ounces and measures 6 inches, as long as a turkey sub from Subway on warm, delicious Italian Herbs and Cheese bread (or Honey Oat bread, or Oregano bread or ...)_

This week, Jeff tells Britta he loves her.

This is hardly something she was expecting, but then again, she also wasn't expecting to be pregnant with his baby, either. He says it right after they have sex, which is such a normal, _married_ thing to do, and Britta has to remind herself that they're not married. She tries to hide her shock, but she doesn't do very well.

"You love me?" She asks, not because she doesn't believe it, but because when Jeff couldn't figure out his feelings, it made it okay that she couldn't either. Now that he knows, now that he _feels_, it means she has to feel, too.

"Yeah," He shrugs, as if it's obvious. "I'm sorry it took this long to admit it."

Britta smiles and then masks her feelings under her insecurities. "Are you sure? Are you sure you're not going to wake up tomorrow and realize you'd rather be with Slater… or Annie? I mean, if you still have feelings for Annie… I know she still kind of likes you-"

"Britta, since when are you this insecure?"

She shoots him an odd glance. "Do you _know_ me?"

Jeff chuckles, kissing her before saying, "I love you, dragon turtle."

Britta smiles. "I love you too, Douche Street."

**Week Twenty**

_This is the week most women get that ever-important gender-revealing ultrasound. Your baby has established sleep patterns akin to a newborn now. Many babies even have a favorite sleep position already. Some snooze with their chins resting on their chests, while others nap with their head flung back. Many babies at this age fall into noticeable cycles of sleep and activity, so you may know before she arrives whether you have a night owl or an early bird. If your baby is a girl, her uterus is completely formed and the rest of her "parts" are in development. From this point forward, your baby will put most of her energy into gaining weight and, not coincidentally, so will you! Right now your baby weighs approximately 10½ ounces and is about 6½ inches long, about the size of a can of Red Bull._

Shirley goes into labor in the middle of the last week in July. The group gathers in the maternity ward, speaking anxiously about anything and everything.

"Five months down, four months to go," Annie grins excitedly at Britta, who nods her agreement.

"Cannot wait," She groans. "I am _so_ uncomfortable."

"Not as uncomfortable as Shirley right now," Troy remarks. "That's _got_ to hurt."

In only five hours, they are told it's okay to visit Shirley, who is seated animatedly on the bed, holding her new baby son proudly. Jordan and Elijah are beside her on side, Andre on the other as Shirley states, "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Isaiah Jackson Bennett!"

"Oh my God!" Annie wails. "He's beautiful!"

A chorus of agreement is heard before the newest addition to the world is passed around for everyone to hold. When Britta gets her turn, she coos to him awkwardly. "I've never really done this before. Guess I should how, right? I'm going to have my own in twenty weeks."

"Yes, Isaiah," Jeff chimes in. "Your new best friend. So get ready. He or she is going to knock your socks off."

There's laughter as Britta takes in the damp weight of the newborn, his milk chocolate skin and sweet baby smell. His tiny fingers are curled around his blanket, his eyes blissfully closed. But when he opens them, they are a deep black and a soft almond shape. Britta glances at Jeff fearfully and he has the same expression on his own face.

There is no _way_ this baby isn't Chang's.

**Week Twenty-One**

_Chances are good you're feeling someone performing a round-off back handspring in your uterus by now. By now your baby looks like a mini-version of what she'll look like when she's born. All her facial features are formed and hair is growing on her head. She's even acting like a baby and will occasionally suck her thumb or yawn. Baby's heartbeat is getting stronger and can be heard using a good old-fashioned stethoscope. By 21 weeks, fetal bone marrow starts making blood cells—previously done by the liver and spleen. Your baby has been swallowing amniotic fluid for a while now, but now the intestines are finally developed enough that she's absorbing small amounts of sugars from it. Your baby now weighs between 10 and 11 ounces and is approximately 7 inches long—the size of a delicious, cold, frothy bottle of root beer._

"You're aware that you're eating meat right now, right?"

Britta glances up from her chicken cutlet. "Shut _up_."

Jeff holds his hands up in defense. "Just wondering. Making sure you knew you were breaking the rules of vegetarianism."

"Listen," She sighs. "_You're_ child is making me do this. It's not my fault."

"Thank God my kid's on the right side of the argument." Jeff grins, using the closest potholder to mime a puppet and donning a kid's voice to say, "Mommy, vegetarianism is ridiculous. You're not saving as many animals as you think you are. Mommy, you know that even if _you_ don't eat the meat, someone else will, right? It's still going to get killed."

Despite the grin on her face, Britta attempts to control her laughter. She fails. "Can you stop doing that creepy voice? And you're making fun of _my_ eating habits? You're the one who's all 'organic' this and 'soybean' that. Freak."

"Yes, well, our child is eating organically because I'm not risking him or her getting _E. coli O157:H7_." Jeff states and Britta snorts. "Yeah you laugh, but I read _Fast Food Nation_. I know what goes on in the meatpacking industry."

Britta scrunched up her nose. "Ew. Can we not talk about that while I'm eating?"

"Whatever," He shrugs as she finishes, yet still looks pensive. "What?"

"We have pickles and ice cream left, right?"

Jeff rolls his eyes, wondering how they became so 'married' in such a short amount of time. "We should. I bought some this morning."

She grins. "I love you for a reason."

**Week Twenty-Two**

_Your Mini's hands have grown bigger and stronger and the nerve endings in her fingers have developed her sense of touch. She's in there testing out her newfound abilities by touching her face and grabbing the umbilical cord. You're already raising a little Einstein. Your baby's brain is developing at a clip this week and will continue to do so until she's five years old (so load up on the Omega 3)! Your baby now weighs almost a pound and measures almost 11 inches from her head to her heel, which is how the Stretch Armstrong in your uterus will be measured from here on out. Up 'til now your baby's legs were curled tight up against her torso, so she was measured from her head to her bottom (or crown to rump) and not head to toe. This week your mini is about as long as a package of Oreos and as heavy as a large bag of tortilla chips. Who's hungry?_

A week later, Britta comes to the realization that not only is this their baby, this is their baby _forever_.

And okay, that sounds like a really stupid realization- and maybe a little high-school- but she had never really, _really_ thought about it before. She was going to be someone's _mother_. That thought scares her, but is exciting and thrilling as well. She realizes that they don't know the gender of the baby, so they can't really think of names, but they can at least come up with a last one.

She plops down on Jeff's leather couch. "We're using my last name. It's way more legit than Winger."

"Um, absolutely not," Jeff disagrees, flicking off the television. "I'm the father of the child; the kid's _supposed_ to have my name."

"Yeah but it sounds bad." Britta says honestly. "What name goes with Winger? Our kid's screwed."

"Not if we name him Jeff Junior. Jeff the second."

"We're _not_ naming our son that!" She insists vehemently. "And what if it's a girl?"

"Jeffrilena," Jeff winks and then adds, "I made that up."

"I can tell," Britta states dryly. "Seriously though, what names do you like?"

"What do you think of Katie?" He questions after a beat. "Cute, right?"

"Katie Perry?" Britta deadpans. "Are you serious?"

"We wouldn't use your last name, obviously!" Jeff argues back. "That would just be ridiculous."

"Yes, _that_ would be overkill," She rolls her eyes. "Alright, fine. Let's hyphenate. Perry-Winger sound good to you?"

"Deal," He grins and kisses her.

**Week Twenty-Three**

_Your baby's got a while to go before her lungs will be ready for air and is practicing her "breathing" on the amniotic fluid—sucking it in and out of her lungs. Fat production is in overdrive at this point (for the baby, not you! Well, OK, maybe for the baby ____and__ you). Your baby will basically double in weight over the next four weeks! You'll be happy to know the same won't apply to you. Your Mini is starting to look more like a newborn as her skin becomes less see-through. Her body is looking more proportional now, although her head is still kind of big compared to her cute little body. Your baby is about 11½ inches long and weighs 1 pound, or about the length and weight of a Harry Potter book._

In the last week of August, Britta is hot, irritable, and her back is aching when Jeff enters her living room with _fantastic_ news.

"The course catalog for Greendale showed up in the mail today," He says, dropping hers by her feet and flipping through his as he sits down beside her. "What are we taking this semester? Sociology?"

Britta nods miserably and reaches out towards her course booklet, whining, "I can't reach it."

His eyes roll and he hands it to her. "You could've reached it."

She glares at him. "I can't even _see_ my feet, let alone reach them."

Jeff chuckles. "What's your issue today? You seem all… out of sorts."

"It's hot, my breasts are sore, and my back is killing me," She complains. "And the last thing I want to do is go back to fucking _Greendale_."

"Whoa," Jeff says, motioning for her to move over so he could reach her, his hands immediately beginning to work the soreness of her back muscles. "I know Greendale's a toilet, but it's not _that_ bad."

"Maybe not for you," She grumbles. "You didn't leave school with a flat stomach and the start school looking like a house."

"You're not even six months pregnant yet," He says and she snorts.

"Next week, Jeff. Next week. Close enough for me."

"Alright, well it's not a big deal. We just have to make our schedules, alright? One step at a time."

Britta doesn't respond. She's fallen asleep.

**Week Twenty-Four**

_Your baby isn't just sitting around doing nothing, he's working hard preparing for life outside the womb—perfecting his lungs and packing on the pounds. He'll gain ½ pound this week alone. Things are starting to get a little crowded inside the old womb as baby grows bigger and bigger. Your ribs are probably pining away for the good old days when they didn't have a foot permanently lodged between them. Hate to break it to you, but it's going to get worse before it gets better. Your baby's ears are fully functional now. He's getting used to the everyday sounds inside the womb: the sound of your heart beating, your lungs inhaling and exhaling air, the growling of your stomach because your partner promised he'd be right back with that double cheeseburger and he's taking ____forever!__ He'll even be able to hear your voice when your partner finally arrives and you ask him where the ____bleep__ he's been! So talk nice! Baby's got a fully developed inner ear now. This means his sense of balance is working and he can tell whether he's hanging upside down or right side up. Your little Wiener schnitzel is about the length of a foot-long Chicago hot dog and weighs about 1 1/3 pounds._

The first day of school is a bit of a blur. Britta is aware of all the eyes staring at her and whispering behind her back. They're treating her like she's some teenager who got knocked up at band camp over the summer and the thought alone makes her laugh. This is worse than last year, when they had all been staring at her because she had told Jeff she loved him at the Tranny Dance.

Oh well. At least she got the guy in the end. Joke's on them.

"Just ignore them, pumpkin," Shirley advises her. "I know how it feels, but it'll go away soon."

Britta smiles and agrees. "Yeah. The looks go away when you pop the kid out, right?"

"They do," Shirley hesitates. "And then the questions start."

After school, Britta goes to her prenatal yoga class. She feels instantly better.

**Week Twenty-Five**

_Get ready for pat-a-cake! Baby's hands are now fully developed and he spends most of his awake time groping around in the darkness of your uterus. Brain and nerve endings are developed enough now so that your baby can feel the sensation of touch. Your baby's arms and legs have grown to almost the proportions they will be at birth, which is still sort of short. So don't be alarmed when your newborn's arms barely clear his waist. Baby's nostrils, which have been plugged up until now, clear out and he can practice breathing through the nose. The structures of your baby's spine are now made up of 150 joints, 33 rings and some 1,000 ligaments. The capillaries, the teeniest blood vessels, are now forming in your baby's body, giving his formerly translucent skin a pink glow. The blood vessels in the lungs also develop this week. Your baby weighs about a pound and a half and is about 13½ inches long—roughly the length of one of those recorders you played in elementary school music class._

"So yeah," Britta states outwardly as they gather for study group one day. "My shoes officially don't fit anymore. _Awesome_."

"Well, look at it this way," Annie says. "At least now you have an excuse to go flip-flop shopping, right?"

Britta grins. "This is why I need you around in my life, Annie. When do you want to go?"

As the girls further their plans, Abed turns to Jeff. "Jeff, are you and Britta going to move in together?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"It just seems like the right thing to do, since you could be missing out on vital parts of her pregnancy," He explains. "When Rachel got pregnant on _Friends_, she was still living with Joey, but Ross got really jealous of him and asked her to move in with him instead, so that he wouldn't miss anything."

"Well I have no one to be jealous of," Jeff states. "Unless Cleocatra is seeing things I'm not."

Abed stares at him blankly. "Who?"

"Cleocatra," Jeff chuckles, knowing the name's ridiculous. "That's Britta's cat."

"Like Cleopatra," Abed says with a smile. "Clever."

**Week Twenty-Six**

_Deep breath! Air sacks are developing in your baby's lungs, which means it just might be possible for your baby to take a breath at the end of this week. The retina completes the development of its normal layers this week—all the better to see you with. Brainwaves for the auditory and visual systems are detectable in baby's noggin this week. That means baby's brain is registering things like sound and light. As hearing continues to develop, your baby will start to recognize your voice. Your bambino will also start to recognize your partner's voice. Research has shown that newborns actually recognize familiar sounds after birth. Proof that your baby has been paying attention all along. Break out the sparkling apple juice—baby has now completed two-thirds of her stay in Hotel Womb. Your baby is about 1 2/3 pounds and is 14 inches long head-to-heel, or about the length of a burp cloth (otherwise known as your primary wardrobe accessory for the next several months)._

"So," Jeff brings up casually one day. "Since you're more than halfway through now, we should probably think about what we're going to do when he or she gets here."

"Better question," Britta starts, balancing a bowl of cherries on her pregnant stomach, swatting at Jeff's hand when he reaches for one. "Is when in heck's name are you going to tell your mother about this?"

"Heck? Since when did you stop swearing?" Jeff wonders and Britta eyes him.

"Since I read in _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ that the baby can hear us now, and I don't want one of his or her first words to be one of the seven dirty ones," She says. "Now don't change the subject."

"I don't know, it's complicated. She still doesn't even know I'm not a lawyer anymore," Jeff frowns. "Can you imagine that bombshell? 'Hey Mom, long time, no see, listen, I cheated my way to my lawyer position, had a fake degree, got caught and fired and now I'm enrolled in community college. Oh and by the way, I met this girl who I had sex with a bunch of times and now we're having a baby… See you at Thanksgiving.'"

Britta stares at him a bit before saying, "Well, I wouldn't put it like _that_."

Jeff laughs. "Oh really? Thanks for the advice."

Struggling to sit up- and groaning at him when he helps her- she hands him the phone. "Call her."

He sighs and takes the phone, dialing her number and waiting until she picks up. "Hey Mom, it's me. Yeah, I know it's been a long time, listen. I have to tell you something; don't kill me, okay? I'm not a lawyer anymore… No, I know… No, I'm pursuing a higher education… Yeah… Yeah it is. While I was there, I actually met this girl… Uh-huh… Definitely, yeah, her name's Britta… Yeah so we're kind of a thing now… And we're having a baby… About six and a half months… Mom… Mom, I know… I know! Okay, okay, I have to go. I just… I will. I… Okayloveyoubye."

When he hangs up, Britta is glaring at him. "You _lied_ to her!"

"It's not lying," He insists. "It's not telling the whole truth."

**Week Twenty-Seven**

_Baby's lungs and immune system are maturing this week as baby prepares for his grand entrance. If he were born today he would have an 85 percent chance of surviving as his lungs are capable of breathing air (with medical assistance, of course). Baby's done a lot of growing over the past few months. His length has more than doubled in the past 15 weeks! And that's not the only thing growing—baby's brain tissue and neurons are all developing at a rapid pace. His brain waves are now firing away just like those of a newborn baby. Your baby now weighs in at approximately 14½ inches and just over 2 pounds, or about the size of that roast you made last time your in-laws were in town._

As September draws to a close, Jeff wakes up one night on a rare night that they aren't sleeping at each other's apartments to an alarmed call from Britta.

"_Something feels weird_," Her voice is rushed and panicked on the other end. He can't tell if she's crying or not. "_And not good weird-ow!_"

"I'll be right there," He's already out of bed, tossing clothes on and grabbing his keys. "I'll be there, just, hold on, okay?"

She thinks she's in labor and it's the scariest thing ever because she's not due for another thirteen weeks. She's gripping her stomach as they enter the emergency room, afraid that if she delivers tonight, the baby won't survive. Her doctor is called and arrives in record time, executing an ultrasound and examining her cervix, before turning to her with a smile.

"Your baby's perfectly fine," Dr. Hastings smiles. "You're not in labor."

"I'm not?" She asks disbelievingly. "Then what the hell's going on?"

"They're simply Braxton-Hicks contractions," Dr. Hastings explains. "Think of them as practice contractions. They're harmless and very common. Most women don't even feel them."

Britta sighs in relief. "Oh thank God. I thought the baby was going to die."

"Of course not," Dr. Hastings assures them. "Even if you were in labor, there's a very good chance your baby would live. Odds are in your favor from here on out."

They return to Britta's apartment, Jeff still in shock. "I was so freaked out. I didn't know what the hell was going on. I didn't know if it was the baby or… you."

She yawns, settling back into her bed. "Relax Winger. I'm a rock."

Jeff nods, but the fear is still there. Maybe living together wouldn't be so bad after all…


	3. Third Trimester

Obstetrics and Gynecology

**Week Twenty-Eight**

_As the Big Day nears, your baby is getting ready to go towards the light at the end of the tunnel (the tunnel being the birth canal, the light being the one the doctor is shining directly into it so she can see what the heck she's doing). Your baby's eyes are partially open now and can blink. Your baby has begun having rapid eye movement. Her eyes have color now, too. It may not be the color she ultimately ends up with, especially if they're light gray or blue. The eyes typically don't settle on a final hue until nine months after baby is born. So when your mother-in-law says that the baby has her eyes, you can politely inform her that they'll most likely change soon. Sorry. Your babe is downright chubby compared to a few weeks ago. She is about 15 inches long, about the length of an amusement park cinnamon-sugar-coated churro (yum!), and weighs 2 to 3 pounds._

About as bad as Britta is at giving news, good or bad, Jeff is about twenty times worse.

"So," He states lamely one day in Sociology class. "Want to move in together?"

Britta stares at him. "_What?_"

"I don't know," He blushes and it's cute to see Jeff Winger embarrassed, Britta has to admit. "Wouldn't be easier?"

"Well, _yeah_, but who asks like that?" She teases. "You asked me that the same way you would be like, 'Oh hey, want to grab lunch after class?'"

Jeff stares at her. "Do you?"

"You're the worst," She states, though there's a hint of a smile on her face.

"Yeah," Jeff smirks. "Clearly."

**Week Twenty-Nine**

_Having a baby prematurely is frightening, no doubt. But here's a reason to relax: due to the impressive advancements of medical technology, if your baby is born this week, she'd have a 9 out of 10 chance of survival, which is seriously great news. Baby's brain can now control her breathing and body temperature. She can also cough, and her sucking abilities have been perfected. Your Mini's skin is looking less wrinkled as she packs on the pounds. She's now beefing up on the energizing and insulating white fat she'll be born with. And speaking of energy, your little Energizer Bunny is on fire these days. You're sure to feel your share of kicks, punches and elbows, especially when you're lying down. This week your baby is a little over 15 inches long—about the length of a loaf of bread—and weighs about 3 pounds, as much as a Macbook Air laptop._

They decide to have Troy and Abed help them move Britta's things into Jeff's apartment, his being the bigger of the two and also having two bedrooms.

Troy struggles under a very large box. "What the _hell_ is in this one?"

"Books," Britta quips. "Very important books."

Abed plucks one off the top and frowns. "Anarchist books?"

"I'll have you know it's very educational," Britta says indignant. "It's a real eye-opener."

Jeff shakes his head. "Great our kid's first words are going to be anarchy and atheism."

Britta nods. "I hope so."

**Week Thirty**

_Big news for baby's brain this week: It's starting to wrinkle and fold and looks like something that grew in the back of your fridge. This is due to the rapid growth of your little genius's brain cells. Fingernails and toenails are finally finished—causing his or her parents great fear and anguish the first time they try to cut those little daggers. Plus, the bone marrow is completely in charge of red-blood-cell production now. Baby is starting to shed his lanugo—the downy hair that was covering his skin. Now that he's chubbier and better able to regulate his body temp, he doesn't need to sport a fur coat 24/7. When your baby is awake, his eyes are now wide open and he's whittling away the hours looking around, checking out his rather dark, limited environs. Your baby hasn't gained much weight or height this week, as most of his energy's been channeled to the brain. He weighs about 3 pounds and is approximately 15.5 inches long, about the size of London- not the city, Britney Spears' Yorkie terrier. Of course your baby is less hairy and way cuter!_

Learning to live together isn't as difficult as they were expecting it to be, but maybe it was because they had pretty much been doing so for a long time.

They start accepting and adopting the other's ways; Britta stops complaining about Jeff's organic cooking, Jeff attends Britta's yoga class once when they talk about birthing methods and positions. He doesn't go again. They drive to school together and it's not weird. They eat every meal together and it isn't weird. They sleep together, of course, and that's not- well, it's _never_ weird. They're waiting for things to get weird, to be awkward and odd between them.

Things never get weird. So they keep doing them.

**Week Thirty-One**

_From this week on, your baby will continue to gain around ½ pound a week until shortly before birth. Due to increasing space constraints, your baby's arms and legs stay drawn up close to the body now, known as the fetal position (oh, so that's where that name came from!). Plus, your baby can now process information from all five senses. By now, your baby's lungs are the only system not fully mature. And by mature, we're not saying that the rest of your baby's systems are mature enough to be out past 10 PM with the neighborhood hooligan, just that her lungs need a little bit more time to bake before they can kick it in the outside world. Your baby weighs about 3½ pounds and measures a little over 16 inches, about the same length as that miniskirt you used to wear (and will again someday!)._

Halloween at Greendale proves to be another crazy event, although this year Pierce isn't constructing a chair tower during a bad trip and the entire campus _isn't_ turning into zombies after eating food infected with a rabies-related pathogen.

This, now that you mention it, sounds pretty boring.

Instead, Dean Pelton throws a huge Halloween bash that's Haunted House themed. Shirley's costume is once again ambiguous- the group thinks she looks like a ghost, but is insisting she isn't and that they should all guess who she is. Annie is dressed as Marilyn Monroe, wig and everything, Pierce is supposed to be Donald Trump, and Troy and Abed are, of course, some kind of fantastic duo from a ridiculous movie.

And because the group insisted Jeff and Britta go as something "couply," the two spend hours arguing over a costume.

And because Britta feels larger than the house she described a long time ago, and because Jeff decides he _has_ to dress vainly as always, they end up very proud of their resulting costume.

They go as Jon and Kate Gosselin.

**Week Thirty-Two**

_Although your baby will still remain active, his days of trying out for Cirque du Soleil are nearly over. About this time your baby will settle into the head-down position in preparation for birth. Both you and baby are putting on some serious weight at this point. You'll probably gain about a pound a week for the next few weeks, with half of that poundage bulking up baby. He'll likely double his weight in the next eight weeks. Your baby may (or may not) have a full head of hair now. By the end of this week, your baby will weigh about 4 pounds and measure over 17 inches long—about the length of a hot pair of above-the-knee boots._

The first week of November, and coincidentally, the first week of Britta's eighth month of pregnancy- maybe, possibly, she didn't know. Pregnancy math was so _weird_- Shirley called Annie and Britta to come with her and Isaiah to get the results of the paternity test.

Britta's there within ten minutes, greeted by her two best friends at the clinic. Shirley is trying to remain as optimistic as possible. "Thank you for coming. I really need some support."

"Anytime," Annie assures her comfortingly. "Ever. You know that."

"Yeah," Britta smiles. "After everything you've done for us? We're here for you."

She hands Isaiah to Annie and receives her results. She returns, her face grim. Annie and Britta share a glance before asking, "Well?"

"Isaiah," Shirley says calmly, but somberly. "Is Chang's son after all."

Britta was sure this was true from the moment she first saw Shirley's son, but watching her friend's hopes fall really isn't something she's grateful to see.

**Week Thirty-Three**

_The big news this week is lung development—baby's respiratory system is almost completely mature. That means if your baby was born this week, odds are he'd be a healthy bouncing baby with a just a little help from his friends (aka, the NICU). Your baby can now detect light and tell the difference between night and day. His pupils will constrict and dilate in response to light. The bones in your baby's skull are soft and are not yet fused together. This pliability allows the bones to overlap; making that trip down the tight birth canal possible. Your baby will continue to pack on the pounds gaining around ½ pound a week from here on out. Your baby weighs about 4½ pounds, as much as a grownup duck, and is approximately 17.5 inches long, about the same as a collarbone-length pearl necklace._

Shirley tells Andre the news and he is not quite as supportive as he had said he would be. Needless to say, they stay divorced with shared custody of Jordan and Elijah, who don't care either way whether Isaiah's father is theirs, Chang, or Barney the Dinosaur. However, Chang is not surprised by the news and, of course, wants his share of custody as well. Britta and Annie are there for her every step of the way as Shirley signs off on that custody agreement as well.

That night after everything is settled and Shirley has all three of her boys for the weekend, Britta goes home in search of a less complicated situation. Jeff is making dinner in the kitchen and Britta, of course, gets super emotional again. He turns and she walks directly into his arms, deciding not to cry and to just hold onto him tightly. He teases her, of course, for this, saying, "You were only gone an hour, Britta."

She ignores him. "Our situation may not be ideal, but at least it's not as awful as Shirley's. Thank you for not being unsupportive or a psychopath."

Jeff chuckles, kissing the top of her head. "No problem. You know it really is a chore for me to do that."

**Week Thirty-Four**

_Your baby kind of looks like she's coated in a layer of cream cheese these days. The thick, white substance that protects her skin from pruning in the amniotic fluid is called vernix. When she's born you'll probably see some vernix lingering in her "hard-to-reach" places like under her arms, behind her ears and around her va-jay-jay, if she's a she… Your baby begins to develop her own immune system, instead of relying solely on antibodies received through the placenta. This week, your baby measures about 17¾ inches, as almost as long as an American Girl Doll and weighs almost 5 pounds, as heavy as a bag of sugar, minus the cup you put in your decaf this morning._

At four in the morning on November seventeenth, Britta returns from a bathroom break with a groan and lies down in the bed again, still completely uncomfortable. Jeff chuckles as Britta flops over into many different positions before groaning in frustration and pushing back the covers again. "Don't laugh at me. I'm so _fucking uncomfortable!_"

"What happened to no swearing?"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm sure your child will understand."

After a moment, Jeff follows her into the living room, surprised to find that she's fallen asleep so easily in the recliner. He chuckles, shaking his head as he contemplates whether or not he should make his decision. He does, pulling out the velvet box he purchased a week ago and sliding the diamond ring on her left ring finger.

The next morning, Britta wakes up. And screams. "What. The. _Fuck_!"

Jeff appears in the living room. "You found the ring, huh?"

"How could I not?" She asks. "It blinded me when I woke up this morning. What is this?"

"Hm," Jeff smirks. "I'm not an expert, but I would say it's an engagement ring."

"But… I don't believe in marriage," She offers feebly.

Jeff scoffs. "What do you think it is, the tooth fairy?"

She laughs. "Alright, fine Winger. But my name's staying Perry. You're not getting that from me."

Jeff shakes his head. "I wasn't expecting to."

**Week Thirty-Five**

_This week the final touches are being added to your mini-masterpiece and most of his development is going to packing on the pounds. While baby's movements may be becoming less jerky, he may do his final somersault in the womb soon—to put himself into the head-down position for birth. Your little Karate Kid can't quite pack the punch he used to due to the limited space inside the womb these days. You're likely to feel more wiggles, stretches and rolls than kicks and jabs. The extra layer of fat your baby is adding will create those cute dimples on your baby's elbows and knees. His liver has begun processing his waste products. Baby's nails are growing so long they may curl over the tips of his tiny fingers and toes before he sees a pair of clippers. Your baby is now about 5½ pounds and over 18 inches long—about the size of one of those price-club sheet cakes._

For Thanksgiving, Britta and Jeff decided to host a dinner for their respective families at their apartment to tell them about the marriage and to see them before the baby is born.

It is, as expected, a disaster.

Britta's brothers and sister-in-law ended up fighting obnoxiously over God-knows-what, Jeff's mother believes Britta's mother is a bitch, Britta's mother believes Jeff's mother is a savage, and Britta's father just sits back laughing and watching it all unfold. Britta excuses herself from the table to use the bathroom and instead, steps into the hallway to cry.

Jeff follows and apologizes. "Our families are crazy. I'm sorry."

"This wouldn't bother me, usually," Britta sniffles. "These damn pregnancy hormones."

"From now on, the only family we're going to communicate with is the one at Greendale," Jeff promises and Britta couldn't agree more.

**Week Thirty-Six**

_Your baby continues to put on weight at about ½ pound each week. This layer of fat will help your baby regulate his body temperature after leaving your climate-controlled womb. In fact, your baby will be 15 percent fat at birth. Even in the womb, your baby can listen, feel, touch and see. The only thing separating him from living in the outside world is a little thing called the birth canal. His gums are firm with ridges that look somewhat like teeth, though his actual pearly whites won't start breaking through until he's between three months and a year old. Your baby has definite patterns of sleep and wakefulness—opening his eyes while awake and closing them while sleeping. Your baby will become alert and turn his head toward light and sound just as a newborn would. Your baby is now around 18½ inches long and nearly 6 pounds—just about as big as a breadbox!_

They get married the first week of December.

They decide against the massive wedding Britta's parents were planning and instead just went for something small at the courthouse, their only witnesses the five remaining study group members. There aren't any "I dos" or anything cheesy and romantic, just a few signatures here and there to make it official.

Shirley calls it blasphemous. But for Jeff and Britta, it's just right.

They celebrate with a dinner at Olive Garden, everyone toasting with red wine- except for Britta, who of course drank only water. They received a few minute gifts from their friends and then retreated home to consummate the marriage.

What? Did you think that was going to get overlooked?

**Week Thirty-Seven**

_Huge news this week: You're carrying a full-term baby! If you were to go into labor today, all systems would be a go. Woohoo! Even though you can't wait for the little bambino to quite literally rear his head, keep in mind that your bun benefits from every day in the oven. Baby's growth slows down dramatically this week, which is great news for your birth canal. His bones are still soft and pliable and will solidify after he's born. More great news for your birth canal. He's busy practicing for "life on the outside," working on his breathing, sucking, sleeping, gazing and peeing abilities. The only thing he can't practice yet is his ability to scream at the top of his lungs when he's hungry—but he'll do plenty of that in a few weeks. At this point babies vary in size, but the average length is between 19 and 20 inches and most babies weigh approximately 6 pounds._

By week thirty-seven, Britta is more than ready for the baby to get out.

She's folding clean clothing and placing it in respective drawers in the designated nursery, still shocked to find the golden wedding band glimmer in the sunlight. If someone had told Britta three years earlier that she would be getting married and having a baby in her third year at Greendale, she would have laughed in this person's face.

Funny how "meaningless sex" can change things, isn't it?

"Okay," Jeff exhales, jumping back to survey his work. "Crib's set up. Which still shocks me because I'm pretty sure you told me the baby's sleeping in the bassinette in our room for the first week of its life. But whatever. It's done!"

"Because he or she needs a room," Britta says. "Who cares if she's sleeping with us? This will be _his_ room; I want her to see it fully equipped."

"Okay, I surrender," He says, bringing his hands down to rest on her swollen stomach. "Thirty-seven weeks. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," She smiles. "Let's do this."

**Week Thirty-Eight**

_Your baby's intestines have accumulated a considerable amount of meconium, which is usually eliminated shortly after birth and gives you your first experience with the 100-wipe diaper change. Your baby might just scratch herself in the womb as the fingernails have grown over the fingertips now. Resist painting them hot pink when she arrives. Baby's lungs continue to mature and her brain and nerve function are working better every day. The latter two will continue to mature until Junior is a teenager, at which point she'll know it all (or at least she'll think she does). Your baby weighs about 6½ pounds and is around 19 or 20 inches long—as long as a duffle bag (in case you needed an excuse to go shopping for a new bag for your labor gear)._

The week before Christmas, Greendale lets out for winter break. Britta's just glad to cuddle up in large maternity sweatpants and a sweater, staying in the warmth and not having to go to class.

Jeff enters the living room, where she's snuggled up watching _The Cosby Show_ reruns, and smirks. "You look comfy."

"I am, for once," She sighs. "When the hell is this baby going to get out of me?"

He shrugs, sitting beside her. "Whenever she feels like it, unfortunately."

"I'm sick of waiting."

"Me too."

**Week Thirty-Nine**

_One uncomfortable complaint of late pregnancy is frequent hiccups. No, not you, your baby. Because there is no air around your baby, when she practices breathing, it can cause amniotic fluid to get into her windpipe, resulting in those regularly spaced thumps that make you think you're carrying a jumping bean in your belly. The lanugo that used to cover your baby's body has mostly disappeared, but you may find a bit leftover on the shoulders, forehead and neck. It'll fall out soon. The color of baby's skin is changing from a red-pink hue to a white or blue-pink color. The circumference of your baby's head and abdomen are about the same size now. The placenta is lending your Mini antibodies that'll keep him strong and healthy after birth. At this point your little critter is about 19 to 20 inches long and weighs about 7 pounds. That's just around the size of a large rabbit. What's up Doc?_

Christmas Eve, Britta goes into labor.

Or so she thinks.

She has painful contractions and she loses her mucus plug- which, ugh, disgusting- so she and Jeff go to the hospital. There, they monitor her and check her cervix over and over again. The nurse informs her that she's only two centimeters dilated and 30% effaced. She's not in labor, just having Braxton-Hicks contractions once more. She tells Britta to go home and try and get comfortable.

Britta tells her to go to hell.

**Week Forty**

_Congrats! That bun in your oven is fully baked! That's the good news. The possibly not so stellar news: Actually giving birth on your due date is hard to do—even for overachievers. In fact, many first-time moms go up to 2 weeks past their due date (sorry!). Hopefully now that baby is cooked to perfection, he'll come bouncing out any day now. At birth your baby has a total of 300 bones. Some of the bones will fuse together later, which is why an adult has only 206 bones. Fascinating, no? Babies vary in size at this point, but the average full-term baby weighs around 7 to 8 pounds and hovers around 19 or 20 inches. That's about the size of a ... BABY! Of course, tell that to the mother who just delivered a 9-pound baby vaginally!_

On New Year's Eve a week later, Britta goes into labor for real this time.

It's a week and a half after her due date, but she doesn't care anymore. She doesn't care about the pain because she's _finally_ going to be free of this child… well, metaphorically, anyway. And okay, yeah, it hurts. And ok, yeah, she may have called Jeff some awful names and swore she would never sleep with him ever again, but that doesn't really matter does it? Because two minutes after the stroke of minute, the dawn of a new year begins, and their daughter is finally born into the world.

Two hours later, when they're both cleaned up and resting in recovery, the rest of the study group comes in to meet the newest member of the world. Britta's clutching her proudly, Jeff looking on. Shirley and Annie squeal excitedly the moment they step into the room. "Oh my God, she's more beautiful than I imagined she'd be!"

"Guys, after much deliberation, Jeff and I finally agreed on a name," Britta announces tiredly. "Please welcome…. Drum roll, please!"

Abed grins and he and Troy bang against the walls and table. Jeff chuckles. "Zoe Claire Perry-Winger."

"Ha!" Pierce laughs. "Sounds like a Muppet."

"Would you stop?" Annie scolds. "It's beautiful."

"Hey Isaiah," Shirley coos to her own son, who is five and a half months old and a bit drowsy. "Meet your future girlfriend Zoe!"

"Girlfriend?" Annie teases. "Try wife!"

"Ah no," Jeff disagrees. "Because then Chang would be our in-law and that is the _last_ thing I need!"

"I propose a toast," Troy says, lifting the closest cup of water. "To Zoe Claire Perry-Winger and for her _finally_ finding her way into the world."

"Aw, thanks Troy," Britta grins and they all agree. "And it's about time she did, too."

They all agree to that, too.

**One Week Later**

It turns out, Zoe fits right in to their daily routine.

And Jeff will never admit this to anyone _but_ Zoe- and maybe Britta- but he loves being a parent.

"Alright Zoe," Jeff lifts her off the changing table and back to the crook of his arm. "All clean. Now next time, you wanna save one of those for Mommy? That was pretty gross."

"Now listen, a lot of people will tell you that you were an accident or you were a mistake, but that's not true," Jeff explains, sitting down in the oversized rocking chair. "You were unplanned, yeah, but definitely not a mistake. See I never really saw myself getting married or having kids. Back in the day- man, that makes me sound old- I used to run the court systems. Oh yeah, your Daddy was a whiz at that stuff. Now I'm stuck at Greendale. Which sucks, but hey, it did bring me to your Mommy."

"I do miss being a lawyer, Zoe, don't get me wrong. This is all new to me. I was afraid that if I cared about people, I'd have to start building relationships with them. But it turns out, that's not so bad. I've done… Well, let's just say some not-so-good things." He says truthfully as Britta enters the room. "But none of that matters, now. Because you're here."

"What are you telling her?" Britta asks, sitting down on his lap and kissing her daughter's forehead as he brings his free arm up to support her.

"Just about us," He says and assures her, "Not the bad stuff."

"Good," Britta grins. "So we've survived a week. We can do this for eighteen more years, right?"

Zoe lets out a laugh and her parents chuckle as well. Jeff shakes his head. "She has no faith in us."

"Well, give us a chance, Zoe," Britta coos. "We're certainly going to try."

* * *

Props to http : / 3dpregnancy . parentsconnect . com / calendar / 1 - week - pregnant . html for all the pregnancy info.


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